


What Satisfaction Canst Thou Have To-night?

by AriadneKurosaki



Series: IchiRuki Month 2020 [16]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, IchiRuki Month, Ichigo's a little bit sub, Safer Sex, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:21:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26017966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriadneKurosaki/pseuds/AriadneKurosaki
Summary: After they meet in English Literature 101, Ichigo and Rukia immediately find common ground: they have no patience for Romeo and Juliet. At least...not until Rukia discovers just how much Ichigo enjoys it when she quotes Shakespeare.
Relationships: Kuchiki Rukia/Kurosaki Ichigo
Series: IchiRuki Month 2020 [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1858906
Comments: 13
Kudos: 67





	What Satisfaction Canst Thou Have To-night?

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Day 20, Romeo and Juliet
> 
> I loathe Romeo and Juliet, but it's canon that Ichigo likes Shakespeare. So here he is, liking the Bard's words a bit too much even if neither of our star-crossed lovers have any use for this particular play.

The first time she sees Kurosaki Ichigo, they’re in English Literature 101 at Seireitei University. She is running late: her dorm is about as far as one can get from the English Lit classroom and still technically be on campus. In a class of nearly two hundred students, his bright hair sticks out.

He’s also next to the only empty seat in the room, and Rukia slides into it as discreetly as she can. The professor is still talking about the plan for the trimester and Rukia lets out a relieved breath that she has, apparently, only missed introductions.

The orange-haired man next to her looks like a delinquent: all that bright hair falls into his face in messy bangs and is just a little too long down the back of his neck. There are silver chains on his black jeans and the shirt he wears is some band she’s never heard of. It’s too warm for a jacket but she’s sure he’d be wearing leather.

He glances at her and the scowl on his face softens just a touch, but neither of them speak.

“We’ll start with _Brave New World_ , and following that we will be studying Shakespeare’s _Romeo and Juliet_ ,” the professor announces from the front of the room, and to her left the delinquent lets out a groan under his breath. He isn’t the only one; Rukia, having already studied the tragedy in high school, isn’t eager to read _or_ analyze it a second time. At her huff of irritation, the punk next to her actually smirks.

“Your first assignment can be found on your syllabus.”

She doesn’t speak to Ichigo that first day, but the next time their class meets the only empty seat is again next to him. When it happens a third time, _Rukia_ is actually early and he slides into the seat next to her as if it’s his rightful place.

There are at least a dozen seats left and when she just _looks_ at him, he smirks. “Figured I’d be safest next to the other person in class who knows that _Romeo and Juliet_ is shit,” he offers.

Rukia can’t stop the answering quirk of her lips. “Not a fan of the Bard?”

His lip curls. “The _Bard_ is great. _Romeo and Juliet_ is an overhyped waste of paper.”

Rukia is surprised into a laugh. “Kuchiki Rukia,” she offers, and holds her hand out. The hand that grasps hers in turn is callused but not rough. She’s sure she imagines the little spark when their hands touch.

“Kurosaki Ichigo,” he says, and his smirk softens into something more like a real smile.

Their professor calls the class to order after that, but there’s something a little warmer between them, and when their next assignment requires research in the library, Ichigo asks so casually for her number so that they can meet up and share resources that Rukia gives it to him.

They commandeer their own study room in the library for the project, and Rukia finds historical texts on the 1930’s while Ichigo locates the old movie based on the novel. Though _technically_ not allowed in the library, when Rukia returns to the study room there is a spread of snacks on the table. He has another band shirt on, one with a white circle filled with three hexagons, and faded writing on it. Apparently the library _is_ cold enough for a jacket, and as Rukia suspected it’s a soft-looking leather one with silver hardware.

She kind of wants to touch it.

“My hero,” she says instead, and her tone is a touch melodramatic as she reaches for a bag of panda biscuits.

“What makes you think these are for you?” Ichigo asks with a smirk, although there’s no heat in his tone. He steals a biscuit from the open packet and grins at her. “C’mon, let’s watch this stupid movie so we can get out of here before midnight.”

They stumble out of the library at one in the morning. “I’ll walk you to your dorm,” he offers.

“I don’t need an escort, it’s just across campus,” Rukia protests, but when he reaches for her bag she tiredly hands it over.

The campus is quiet except for the sounds of a party exploding out of one of the dorm rooms, and they walk in companionable silence for a while. “What are you majoring in? I haven’t seen you in any of the other core courses,” Rukia asks when they’re halfway back to her dorm.

“English Literature.” At her incredulous look, Ichigo just grins and says, “I told you I just don’t like _Romeo and Juliet._ Do you have a major yet?”

“History, I think. It’s only the first trimester and I’m still taking core classes.” Rukia rolls her eyes. “The 101 history class I’m taking is not a good sign, though.”

He leaves her at the front door of her dorm and waits until she gets inside. She doesn’t learn until later that _his_ apartment is halfway back across the campus in the other direction.

Ichigo brings her _coffee_ for their next class together, and she blushes only a little when their fingers touch as she takes it from him. They worked together well on their _Brave New World_ projects, and so Rukia thinks nothing of it when, upon discovering that the library will be closed due to a plumbing problem, he invites her back to his dorm a week later for their first assignment on the hated play.

“Ugh,” she says an hour later while they are both typing away on laptops. “Everything about this play is just so _overwrought_.” Rukia picks up her copy of the play and recites overdramatically, “How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? The orchard walls are high and hard to climb, and the place death, considering who thou art, if any of my kinsman find me here.” She sniffs.

But Ichigo – when she looks at him, his eyes are wide on hers and darker than the amber she’s used to. And so Rukia tests the theory that suddenly blooms in her mind. “Really, they’re such dramatic teenagers. ‘Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed. If thy bent of love be honorable, thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow, by one that I’ll procure to come to thee, where and what time thou wilt perform the rite; and all my fortunes at thy feet I’ll lay, and follow thee my lord throughout the world.’”

She peeks up at him over the top of her book and – oh. He _does_ like Shakespeare. Ichigo’s breathing is a little faster, his eyes dark amber as he looks at her. The laptop he’s using doesn’t hide the fact that he’s hard in his pants. “Don’t you think so?” she asks, and when Ichigo just swallows she adds, “Do not swear at all; or if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, which is the god of my idolatry, and I’ll believe thee.’”

“Y-yeah,” Ichigo manages to get out, but the bulge in his black trousers grows larger, and he looks a little shellshocked.

And well – Rukia can’t let that stand. She slides her laptop out of the way and joins him on his couch instead of the chair she’d been perched on. He licks his lips a touch nervously and when their eyes meet again, she says teasingly, “I guess you really do like the Bard.”

His cheeks flush and in response Rukia recites, letting her voice grow softer, “This bud of love, by summer’s ripening breath, may prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.” The room is silent long enough that she thinks she’s misjudged him or overplayed her hand, but then:

“O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?” Ichigo asks, his voice rough. His copy of the play is discarded – apparently he doesn’t need it.

The low timbre of his voice sends a little jolt through her and Rukia swallows. “What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?” She has to glance at the book still in her hand, but that doesn’t seem to matter, because Ichigo is leaning in closer.

“I _could_ have a lot of satisfaction,” he says roughly, and his eyes dart to hers again as if looking for her consent before his lips finds hers. The first brush of their lips is almost chaste despite the heat between them, but then Rukia opens her mouth to him and he takes full advantage, tongue darting to find hers and one hand coming up to pull her closer. The book drops from her hand and thuds onto the floor.

When she moans into his mouth, Ichigo tips back on the couch and brings her with him so that their bodies are pressed together, his hips and hers aligned as their mouths meet again and again. For a moment the room is quiet except when one or both of them moan into one another, but then Rukia asks, “Oh could you?” and, separated from him by layers of jean and cotton underwear already growing wet, rocks against him.

His eyes open and find hers again, and he grins up at her. There’s a feral edge to it as his fingers come around to find the hem of her shirt and glide beneath it, brushing against suddenly-heated skin. He finds a breast, hidden beneath the lace of her bralette, and cups. “Mhm,” Ichigo rumbles, and his mouth finds her neck, licking and biting at the soft skin. “Let me show you?” The words are murmured into her skin and Rukia shudders above him.

“ _Yes_.”

There is a flurry of clothing after that: her shirt and his find the floor, but she has to shimmy out of her jeans in a way that makes him groan. When they meet again. he pulls her up and her legs wrap around his waist; a hiss leaves his mouth at the feel of his cock, hard and hot, against her cotton-clad pussy.

He carries her to his bed and they tumble into it, twin gasps echoing between them. Her bralette vanishes and so does everything else they’re wearing, not to be found until morning. Rukia’s limited experience with sex – an earlier boyfriend who didn’t know his way around a woman’s body and didn’t care to learn – has her tensing a little when Ichigo’s fingers find her center, but his eyes find hers and he murmurs lowly, “Can I taste you?” as his fingertips brush through her wetness, just barely touching her clit but sending jolts of pleasure and heat through her body.

“Please,” she finds herself saying, and blushes at the way his eyes darken again. But then she’s too busy moaning to think about that (or about anything at all, really). His mouth on her skin, hot and by turns gentle and just a little rough, has her keening words that have nothing at all to do with Shakespeare. The first time his tongue touches her clit she nearly comes off the bed, and he has to hold her down with his free hand as he laps and traces shapes against her sopping wet skin.

Time dilates and all Rukia can hear over the sound of her moans is the lewd sound of his mouth working her over. One finger dips inside of her and curls so that she gasps, and eventually he adds a second and thrusts, stretching and filling. “Come for me?” he asks, lifting his mouth away to look at her. The words have a hint of begging to them, and Rukia’s cheeks burn bright as she lifts herself up on her elbows to meet his eyes and watch him.

“Do you want to make me come?” she finds herself asking, eyes drawn to the redness of his mouth, the way his lips and even his chin are covered in her slick.

“Very, _very_ much,” Ichigo tells her as his fingers glide. He dips his mouth down again, tongue licking her clit again although his eyes stay on hers. “More than once, if you’ll let me.” The words are whispered against her overheated skin but she hears them just the same.

“I—keep doing that and I’ll let you do anything you want,” Rukia gasps when his mouth closes over her and sucks.

Ichigo takes her seriously, tongue working her over along with his fingers, and before she can say anything more white heat flushes over her and Rukia falls apart beneath him, crying out his name as her hips jerk against his mouth so roughly that again he has to restrain her to avoid being bucked off. He licks her through it and when she can see again he slides back up her body and kisses her.

“I want—” she struggles to focus through the post-orgasmic haze but manages to wrap her hand around his cock. “I want to taste you too.” Though he’s too big for her fingers to touch and Rukia briefly thinks, _Is this going to work?_

“ _Please_ ,” Ichigo groans as she strokes him, and muffles his groans against her mouth even as he writhes against her. He’s _bigger_ than her, but Rukia pushes him over easily and when she kneels between his legs Ichigo looks at her as though she’s holding the moon and stars in her hands.

Her mouth finds his cock, first tentatively and then she closes her lips around him and sucks so that he jerks up toward her. Idly she thinks, _I guess his hair really is that color._

It turns out that Ichigo has a _filthy_ mouth, because he whispers and swears all sorts of things as she bobs her head up and down on his cock while her hand strokes the length that she can’t take into her mouth. He begs her for more, tells her she looks beautiful – tells her he wants to make her come again and again.

Finally though, he says, “Please – I want –” and she pulls her mouth away so that she can listen.

“Tell me what you want,” Rukia whispers. She knows what she must look like, perched between his knees with lips swollen and red. She licks the tip of his cock again and he jerks up with a little cry.

“I want to fuck you.” The words come out with a harsh breath and he looks so, so tense – like he’s an inch away from coming and trying to hold himself back. “Can we?”

The way she crawls back up the bed has him struck dumb for a moment but she asks, “Do you have protection?”

It sends him scrambling in his nightstand; fortunately there is a fresh box, nothing special but that doesn’t matter, and soon enough he has a condom wrapped around his cock. “Tell me how you want me,” he whispers against her mouth – he doesn’t seem to care where her lips were a moment ago, choosing instead to slant his mouth against hers and kiss her until Rukia is feeling a little lightheaded again.

“I want you on top – for now,” she gets out, and Ichigo tips her onto her back after another kiss. His hands slide over heated thighs and when he sinks into her they cry out against one another. Her head drops back and she moans his name even as Ichigo holds still above her, his teeth clenched and his breath coming out in pants. “I need –”

His eyes open and focus on hers, molten amber in the low light, and Ichigo whispers, “Tell me what you need, Rukia.” He groans as her tight walls flutter and slicken further around him, and sinks deeper. “ _Please_.”

“Fuck me,” she whispers in return, and _oh_ , then they are moving together. It takes a minute for them to find a rhythm, but then there is nothing but the glide and push of his cock inside of her, the feel of their hips meeting and parting, the taste of his mouth on hers.

When his fingers find her clit again and rub, he whispers, “Come for me, Rukia – please, I need—” Ichigo can’t seem to finish the words and instead just dips his fingers between them to find more of her slick and use it to rub more quickly, to make her gasp and groan into him.

She sees flashes of white as she falls over the edge, pleasure spreading through her and pussy clenching around him over and over. Rukia struggles to breathe and manages to gasp out, “Come for me,” in return, a plea or an order, and it doesn’t matter when he fucks into her once, twice more and muffles his groans on her lips as he unravels above her.

It takes a long time for their breathing to even out, and Rukia spends it clutched close in his arms. They are both slick with sweat and fluids, panting as if they’ve run a race. Eventually, Ichigo gets out of bed and takes care of the condom; when he comes back his arms slide around her again and his fingers trail over her skin as if he can’t stop touching her.

“You _really_ like Shakespeare,” Rukia says again a while later, and he nips her bottom lip.

“I didn’t mean it in _quite_ that way,” Ichigo protests. “Besides, who I really like is _you_.” Then he bites his lip.

She hums under her breath and kisses him. “I like you too,” she says against his lips. “Glad I wasn’t scared off by your punk chains and hair.”

Ichigo huffs and his hand dips down, making her hiss in pleasure. “It’s an aesthetic,” he insists, and stifles her laughter with his lips.


End file.
